


Desolation

by festiveruin



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: -aggressively writes fanfic to shoehorn in headcanons-, Gen, POV Outsider, lots of mentions of rumors about the fn royal family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:55:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24824194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/festiveruin/pseuds/festiveruin
Summary: The mortician for the royal family meets the child Fire Lord, unsure what he's meant to do next.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 136





	Desolation

Mei Li’s family was not rich, but had the honor of being the only people trusted to prepare the bodies of the royal family for their pyres. Her father had gone to the palace often during Fire Lord Azulon’s reign, and once she was old enough, she went too. The Fire Lord had sired many children but they counted themselves lucky if they lived to age twenty. Prince Iroh was the first of his siblings to survive and Fire Lord Ozai was second, although his lifespan could not hold a candle to Sozin or Azulon’s. His death was announced as quietly as possible, with none of the usual ostentation that his siblings before him had received.

“I don’t want you to say anything about the funeral.” Fire Lord Zuko was not dressed in white, as was tradition for those whose family member had died. Deliberately ignoring that tradition conveyed immense disrespect. Not that it would have been difficult to ascertain from his words alone. “I’m not going to honor a usurper and a tyrant. The only reason I’m doing this at all is because even he deserves final rites.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself of this far more than her. 

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Mei Li answered, deepening her bow. Contradictory to his words, he was still paying a great deal of money for his father’s burial. Not much for royalty, perhaps, but more than enough to supply a year’s worth of food for a rural village.

He was not sitting on his throne, veiled by a wall of fire where he could see her face but not the other way around. Instead, he had opted to talk to her where both of them were on equal footing. It allowed Mei Li to see whenever he glanced away from her uncomfortably. How he clenched and unclenched his fists, and how the fire that surrounded the throne flickered nervously. He looked like he hadn’t been sleeping and was too pale, even for a firebender living in the heart of the Fire Nation. Fire Lord Zuko did not face his father’s death with the cold and unfeeling attitude he tried to emanate. Instead of wanting to criticize how the monarch of her proud nation was an extremely poor politician, she only remembered how her thirteen-year-old son had tried to appear composed after her husband’s death. His Majesty was by all accounts grown, and the Fire Nation had no qualms about drafting boys much younger, but he was not even out of his teens. A nineteen-year-old was handling his father’s funeral completely alone with no support to speak of, and making every effort to keep up the appearance of passivity and detachment.

“You don’t have to bow like that for my entire visit,” Fire Lord Zuko said tightly.

She straightened. “Thank you, Your Majesty.” She paused before asking a question she wasn’t particularly keen on. “Do you wish for me to prepare your father’s body like I normally would for a dead fire lord?”

Details about the relationship between father and son had slowly been leaked from the capital over the years, and their favorite story was how Fire Lord Ozai had brutalized his thirteen-year-old son for speaking out of turn in a farce of an Agni Kai. It was generally looked down upon when parents maimed their children, but this had been an exception. Very few people, Fire Nation citizens included, were surprised at the fact that a member of their ruling family had done something so awful, the savagery having become commonplace. It was an accepted truth, albeit an unsaid one, that the royals in the Fire Nation were not completely sane. It was hard to acknowledge them as anything more than creatures bred and raised for war so it no doubt extended in how they treated each other. After all, they would need practice for conquering the world, and family was an easy starting place. 

All the same, they were celebrated for being so devoted to their war. That they could forsake family to get what they wanted. Taking their shady history into account, the interpretation of them wasn’t even wrong. Only a fool truly believed that all of Fire Lord Azulon’s children could have been killed due to the war or by assassins from the Earth Kingdom. No one dared say it aloud, but it didn’t take much thinking as to how exactly Fire Lord Ozai ascended to the throne, or why his wife had mysteriously died immediately after. No one believed that Fire Lord Azulon would pick his second son and not his treasured first to be the next fire lord. It was no mystery as to why Prince Iroh, denied his birthright, would keep his usurper’s heir so close to his chest, and then take him to the war room that was the catalyst for the child’s banishment. He was a genius politician, and even better at war. Reclaiming control over the Fire Nation through his brother’s son was an ironic and clever method of revenge. And all while avoiding a civil war at the same time. Should something befall Fire Lord Zuko in the future, there would be no doubt that Prince Iroh would have played a part in it. 

With expectations such as those, no one could blame Mei Li for being so surprised with Fire Lord Zuko’s emotional reaction to his father’s death. One would only have to look at the scar on his face to see that he had every reason to want him dead, but he didn’t. It was always a bit more difficult for her to handle bodies if she saw how it affected the dead’s children; she never failed to see traces of her own son in them.

“We can’t erase history. Fire Lord Ozai will be remembered as Fire Lord. Doesn’t matter how we bury him, does it?” The Fire Lord answered her question acidly.

“He did not die as a monarch,” Mei Li replied. She fisted her hands, anxious of how her words could be taken as a slight against the Fire Lord’s father. “I only need to know if he’ll be buried as one.” 

If he reacted to her, she couldn’t tell. His stiff stature remained the same, but the fact that he was uncomfortable was apparent the moment she had entered the throne room and they’d begun their conversation. “Even though I tried to keep this all quiet, it seems like the entire nation knows that Ozai’s getting a dignified funeral,” he said eventually, bitterly. “I don’t need to give them more things to talk about. Just give him the bare minimum.”

“As you say.” Truthfully, the gossip about Fire Lord Ozai was almost exclusive to Capital City. It would of course eventually reach more rural areas, but it would not do so quickly. People that weren’t politicians or nobles didn’t have gossip of the Fire Nation royal family very high on their list of priorities. Of course that didn’t go for local gossip, but the actions of the past three fire lords had been almost exclusively about the war. The Fire Nation had mostly been split into regions and then governed unchecked by the military and governors. The Earth Kingdom, which had been the biggest priority in the Fire Nation’s conquest, had more to gain if they learned about the Fire Lord and his family than Fire Nation citizens did. If he cared about his family like it appeared, that may change yet. She wasn’t about to hold her breath though.

Fire Lord Zuko turned away from her and said in a clipped, short tone, “You’re dismissed.”

* * *

Normally, Mom would have had more help with her bodies, but because of the secretive nature of what she was hired to do, she was only permitted to bring along one other person. And Guan would be the last person in the world to say that he was weak, but… He was not someone who was strong enough to easily pick up and move around Fire Lord Ozai’s body to dress it. Manoeuvring it had been an experience-and-a-half, and he hoped that he would never have to go through the process again. 

The body of the former fire lord had been left alone for too long (Mom could tell someone exactly how long, but Guan had not yet developed that skill), so it was probably going to take more effort to make it look like the corpse was still alive, or at least fresh. The reason for the delay was because no one had even noticed he was dead until it started to smell, which was yet another thing that neither of them were aware of. Mom had used a lot of her expensive cologne to mask the scent, and it didn’t look like the fire sages were willing to offer compensation.

Mom frowned as she tugged lightly on a lock of hair that framed her face. Probably trying to think of a good place to start. 

“Are you almost done?” Guan asked, bored, dropping a pair of scissors on a small table and sauntering over. “If you take any longer, you’ll have to start preparing Fire Lord Zuko’s body too,” he added. 

Mom’s brow twitched in annoyance. “I usually work with people who actually make an effort to help. Multiple people. There’s going to be more work that we’ll need to do than usual.” She carefully combed his hair, attentive about the loose clumps. “And be careful about speaking about the Fire Lord’s death,” she added, wagging the comb in his face. 

He blanched, watching a large wad of hair fall to the ground. “Right. Sorry.” 

“If you don’t cease your loose tongue, you very well may lose it.” Mom said harshly. Ignoring his cheeky look in response, she snatched a hair pin from a small bowl on a table next to Ozai’s head. Gingerly, she pulled a layer of hair to the side as she slid the pin in so it wouldn’t get in the way of her work. Mom put a finger to her chin, her face wrinkling in thought. “Guan, get me those pairs of scissors you were playing with. I need to cut some hair.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Guan mock-saluted and walked off as quickly as he was able without getting shouted at for running. He halted. _I was not playing with scissors,_ he thought, then scowled when he came to a realization. It really was true that she had eyes in the back of her head.

When he came back, he held the scissors up to her and instead of taking them like he expected her to, she moved him closer to the corpse. When he flinched and instinctively pulled away, she only pushed him closer. “Cut here.” She pointed to a section of hair. “Careful to not pull on it,” she instructed.

He grimaced, but obeyed and began cutting where she told him. Touching and cutting a dead person’s hair had not been something that he was looking forward to when he woke up that morning. “So you met Fire Lord Zuko, Mom?” He tried to sound casual, but it came out far more nervous than anything else. He liked to babble when he was nervous and never liked it when it was so obvious what he was thinking. 

“Yes, I did.” Mom left his side to begin cleaning her other tools, not looking at him as she continued to speak. “You know how to cut hair. You don’t need to do anything fancy. Just something to look presentable.” She picked up her small brush and began to scrub away the grime. 

“Alright,” Guan said with a sigh, awkwardly spreading the hair to get a better look at it. He really hoped that he wouldn’t accidentally brush a finger against the cold skin. The hair was bad enough already. “This would be a lot easier if you could just…prop him up or something.”

“If you want to prop it up yourself, be my guest,” Mom replied, sounding like she was only half-paying attention. 

He sighed again, continuing to cut away the crooked and overgrown hair. “You know how lame my friends think I am because the things I learn from working at the royal palace is how fast dead bodies decompose?” He let some more hair fall to the ground. “And how to cut hair. I don’t even get to see any firebending,” he grumbled. 

“Your friends are just jealous that you get to see both the royal palace and Capital City.” Mom turned over whatever it was she was washing to inspect it, then it went back into the bowl, giving it the scrubbing of its life. “Besides, it’s considered rude to firebend indoors. You wouldn’t have seen it anyway.”

“Not like we’re able to bring anything back home so I can show off something to be jealous of in the first place.”

_Snip, snip._

“Just this once, I’ll let you pick something out that you’d like,” said Mom quickly. She talked that way when she made snap decisions. Said that it would make it so she couldn’t think too much to regret it immediately after. “Since you’ve been such an immense help to me the past several months.”

“Anything, huh?” He grinned. 

“Watch where you’re cutting!”

“…Oops.” 

_She didn’t even look,_ he thought, too used to her sixth sense and too annoyed to be impressed. Did she have so little faith in him? Not that she’d been wrong, but that wasn’t the point. 

“Fix it, Guan,” she said roughly. “And about your present, you can get anything within reason and assuming you don’t mess anything else up. I don’t want the Fire Lord to be displeased on how we do our job.”

The next several minutes went by in silence, Guan trying to fix the haircut (which looked even better in his opinion, but no one was asking) until he finally spoke again. “You met the Fire Lord, didn’t you?” 

“Yes, of course I did. We always meet our clients, as you know. If you weren’t late, you would have had the opportunity to as well. It was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and you’ll regret it once you’re old enough to understand what you missed.” 

“What’s he like?” He asked, ignoring her passive scolding. If she was really upset, she’d have been far more direct. 

Mom slowed her scrubbing, considering his question. “He’s different from his family. At least that’s the impression I got. I think this has affected him more than he wants to show. He’s very expressive and was anxious our entire conversation.” 

“Well I’d hope that he’s different,” Guan stated, matter-of-factly. “Being different is all he’s been trying to do ever since he became fire lord. But in my opinion, he’s still basing his entire reign around Ozia anyway. You know, since he’s going out of his way to do everything Ozai wouldn’t do instead of trying to come up with his own ideas. He hasn’t made his own unique mark in the Fire Nation yet.” 

She looked up to give him a dry look. “I didn’t know that you paid attention to politics or were capable of articulating such a well-thought out idea.” 

Guan flushed, but made sure to take special care to not hack off more hair again. He’d been waiting to say his opinion on Fire Lord Zuko for the past few months and now that he actually was, he was starting to feel bashful about it. 

But it was too late to turn back now. He swallowed his embarrassment, and continued as confidently as he could. Dad had always said that a person who sounded confident commanded more respect and got people to listen. It was how Princess Azula gained the prestige, honor, and loyalty that she had. Apparently. …Although considering where she was at the moment, she may not be a good comparison anymore. 

“It’s more interesting now that statesmen aren’t threatening each other with fireballs to the face to scare each other into submission.” 

Mom snorted sardonically. “Yes, now they do it with words instead.” 

“Still.” He shrugged. Watching people who wanted to kill each other but weren’t allowed to would always be an entertaining pastime. 

“Don’t voice your less-than-positive opinions about Fire Lord Zuko so crassly,” she warned. “It’s frowned upon to even express those sorts of opinions at all. And if you absolutely can’t keep your mouth shut, wait until we are as far away from the capital as possible.” 

“If Fire Lord Zuko wanted to be different, he should let people who aren’t politicians say whatever they want to. If he threatens people because they say something he doesn’t like, he’s just as bad as the people he calls the tyrants. If he’s alone and doesn’t have anyone with a different perspective, then—”

“Hush, foolish boy!” Holding the comb in her hand, his mother flicked her wrist so the water on the teeth would splash against his face. “I forbid you from speaking so disrespectfully. I don’t want my only son to end up imprisoned for treason, tortured, and killed.” Her voice broke as she put the comb back into the bowl of water with more force than necessary. The liquid splashed onto her work table and she gritted her teeth in frustration as she started soaking it up with a rag.

He froze and there was a long silence. Then, “Sorry,” he apologized quietly, swallowing. Mom would be alone if anything happened to him. He couldn’t let that happen to her. She deserved better than that. He returned to hair-cutting. 

After soaking up the spilt water, his widowed mother used the rag to begin drying off the comb. “You won’t have someone to tell you to think before you speak for the rest of your life,” she said. “For everyone’s sake, you’d best learn to do it yourself.” She exhaled tiredly. “We owe Fire Lord Zuko and his family many things, Guan. Even with everything they might have done, they’ve earned all of the honor and respect our family gives to them. They’ve remained loyal to us, and we must return the favor.”

“Is the Fire Lord really upset that his father is dead?” Guan said suddenly, eager for a change of subject. 

“It’s only a guess.” Mom placed the comb she’d been drying back into its box. She opened a chest that she’d taken from underneath her work table. “Listen to me. I can’t even listen to my own advice. I’m speaking about the Fire Lord behind his back just as badly as you are,” she muttered to herself with a shake of her head. “You’ve been rubbing off on me too much.”

“You’re not saying anything bad,” Guan pressed, worried that she’d stop talking. 

“I suppose not. But it’s best not to waggle tongues, especially if we don’t know what we’re talking about. All we have are guesses,” she said briskly. “And I suggest you hurry up and finish the hair so I can show you how to do his makeup. It will be harder than usual because the body will need more since it was let to rot for too long. You don’t want to dally and give the cologne time to wear off.”


End file.
